


Now That the Original Building has Been Blown to Hell

by zarabithia



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, M/M, implied past Sam Wilson/Riley, implied past Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:59:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1587494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Steve are going to find Bucky. Steve is sure of that. He's also sure that he doesn't want to put the list  - or his life - on hold until then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now That the Original Building has Been Blown to Hell

After leaving Fury's grave, the first place that Sam wants to stop on the way back to his apartment is a cupcake shop. Steve doesn't bother to remember the name of the place. It's a place of Sam's choosing, which seems appropriate, since Steve is about to really throw Sam's whole life into a bit of a huge mess, and Steve is feeling a bit too selfish to actually tell Sam to stay in DC, even if he thought it would do any good, which Steve doesn't actually believe. But this city's cupcake obsession is one of the things that Steve won't actually miss; the cupcake that Sam hands him is overpriced and Steve's never actually liked cupcakes anyway. He prefers pie or a _real_ cake. 

Sam just shakes his head at him. "You don't like cupcakes _and_ you moved to this city? It's no wonder you overthrew the government. All the signs were there all along." 

It's morbid, making jokes about it, and it might even be dangerous, talking about it in the middle of the day – though, it's on the Internet now, so it isn't as though his actions aren't widely available to the public these days. But Steve is no stranger to gallows humor - he's missed having someone to share a laugh about the worst of situations - and he smiles, even as his stomach twists with a familiar ache because he can't stop thinking about the consequences of that overthrow. 

Actually, it's not the consequences that make Steve ache; it's the reasons. 

One specific reason, if he's being honest, but he doesn't have a whole lot of time for honest self introspection before the kid behind them bumps into him and smears frosting all over the back half of Steve's calf. 

Sam glances down as Steve does and doesn't laugh, but the wrinkle of his nose tells Steve that he's thinking about it. 

A quick reply sits on his tongue, and Steve is disappointed that he can't immediately give it voice. Which is silly, because ... 

No, he supposes it isn't silly at all. Trading barbs with Sam is new, but it feels as familiar as the weight of the shield on his arm. Steve doesn't need the degrees that Sam has to recognize that Sam's presence offers him a similar type of safety. 

He's argued a lot since waking up in this century, but Sam is the only person that has returned it with affection. With everyone else, arguing had been a way to put up walls between them, but with Sam, the arguments feel like the kind of building blocks that Steve didn't know he was stacking back in Brooklyn, but can recognize easily these days, now that the original building has been blown to hell. 

"Gosh, I'm sorry, Mister," the kid says, pushing his glasses up on his nose absently with one hand while trying to salvage the bits of the cupcake that have fallen onto his Iron Man t-shirt. 

Steve feels badly about this, because this poor kid actually seems to like cupcakes. So he glances over at the lady at the kid's right as the four of them quickly get out of the way of the line of people waiting for the chance to buy their own overly sugared treat. The lady looks vaguely mortified in the kind of way that Steve hopes means that she recognizes him enough that she won't mind his next act. 

"It's okay. I should have watched where I was walking more carefully," Steve says, kneeling down in front of him. "You could have mine if your grandma doesn't mind." 

"Aunt," the lady corrects, but it is a correction spoken with just a hint of wistfulness, and Steve doesn't have time to wonder what it means before the child is politely taking the cupcake out of his hands, even though the aunt hasn't technically given permission. 

"You're Captain America," the kid says with a shrug. "I can eat your cupcakes."

"Well, I suppose that is true," the aunt says, and the lines around her smile remind him strongly enough of Peggy that Steve wonders if "aunt" really means "great aunt," because the woman looks like she has fought wars for as long as he and Peggy have. 

Beside him, Sam's attempts not to laugh have given way to what sounds like uncomfortable coughing. 

"Choking on a cupcake in this city," Steve retorts over his right shoulder. "Seems appropriate." 

He forgets, for a moment, that he has an audience. He forgets that he is supposed to be _on_ , because he isn't a dancing monkey anymore, but people in this century have expectations of Captain America that they didn't have in the forties. 

In the forties, people expected him to be a dancing monkey. 

In the present day, people expect him to have all the answers.

There have been exceptions to these rules, of course, and in the present day, Sam is one of those exceptions. 

Sam just expects him to be a friend. 

"Man, if you hated cupcakes that badly, you should have let me know," Sam retorts right back. "Instead of ruining that poor kid's cupcake. As it is, you made him trade in strawberry for blueberry. Keep it up, and your rep as a national icon is going to be ruined." 

And just like that, Sam is giving him permission not to have to slip into Captain America mode. Just like that, Sam is telling him that it's okay that he doesn't have all the answers, even for the mission that they are about to embark on. 

It's okay to be kneeling in front of a kid because you smooshed his cupcake, Sam is telling him. 

For a world that has so far involved the loss of two of the people Steve holds dear and the presence of a "team" that can barely be called one, that's a pretty great message to reminded of. 

And Steve grins a smile at Sam that has nothing at all to do with on display; it must be a pretty nice smile regardless, though, because the lady reassures him too. 

"I don't know. You rescued my husband once, so I think I'll have to forgive you," the kid's aunt says. 

"My uncle got shot in the war. Before you rescued him," the kid speaks up, and for a minute, he frowns. It's the frown of a child who has experienced loss but that loss was too early to completely shatter his life. It's the frown that Steve used to have for his dad, long before he lost his mom and felt the first sting of hurt that refused to heal. For a selfish awful minute, Steve feels envious. 

It would be nice to be that young again - to not understand what it feels like to lose people who matter every single day. 

But then Sam shifts behind him, and Steve is reminded that he'd have to give up a lot for his imagined time traveling, too. It's odd how someone who beats up the badguys through flight can be such a grounding influence, but Steve appreciates it.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Steve says. "But I'm glad I was able to help him, even if it wasn't quite soon enough." 

"It was soon enough for him," the kid says. "Just not for his friend. Uncle Ben says that's not your fault, but I wish you'd have saved them both. That way we could have gone to Disneyland for vacation instead of coming to see the Memorial."

The sting of failure isn't new. Steve does understand, intellectually, that he couldn't have saved everyone. He understands that he helped save a lot of people, and he tries every day to focus on the ones that he did. 

He tries to save dwelling over his failures for the night terrors, because that's when Bucky shows up loudest of all; in the procession of his failures, Bucky is at the top of his list, but never the entirety of the list. 

He doesn't have time to apologize for this particular failure, though, before the woman takes over. 

"Peter!" the woman scolds. "We would have come here regardless. And I think you and I are going to have a long chat about why that is on the way back to the hotel." 

The kid scowls up at his aunt a little defiantly. "Can we at least get some taco pizza on the way home?" 

"You don't want to do that, kid," Sam speaks up. "There's not a solitary decent taco pizza in this entire city." 

"D.C. stinks," the kid states to his aunt as she hurriedly tugs him out of the shop. "I can't wait to get back to New York." 

Sam and Steve follow them out of the shop, and Steve waits until they are half a block away from the cupcake place before he comments, "You know, I can see why that one is an Iron Man fan." 

"If that's the mini version, I hope you never force me to meet the grown up version," Sam teases. 

"There is no such thing as a grown up version of Iron Man," Steve answers as he pulls out his list. 

"Yeah, the news reports and YouTube videos confirm that as fact. Disneyland and taco pizza going on the list?" Sam guesses. 

"Haven't tried either," Steve explains. "Though the words taco pizza do fill me with a level of fear that would have impressed the Red Skull." 

"That's because you're a smart guy who understands that taco pizza is a good waste of both tacos and pizza," Sam answers. "But if you put extra sour cream on the whole thing, it makes everything better." 

Steve writes "extra sour cream" next to the taco pizza, and Disneyland right beneath it. While he's writing, he's vaguely aware of Sam looking at him expectantly. 

Which is strange, because Sam is one of the few people who doesn't expect something out of him on an ongoing basis. 

"What is it?" he asks as he slips the notebook back into his pants. 

"Nothing..." Sam trails off and then shrugs. "I was just wondering if you were planning on putting the list on hold." 

_Until we get Bucky back,_ Sam doesn't say. Sam doesn't say it because Steve knows that Sam isn't one hundred percent sure that they can save Bucky. 

Steve can't be angry at him for that, because the man is still going with him to try. That's more than Steve could ever ask of anyone, and it's all the more precious of a gift because he's never had to ask in the first place.

They walk for a couple more blocks, getting closer and closer to Sam's apartment while Steve thinks about how to answer his question. The great thing about Sam is that he doesn't push. Maybe it's because he's a therapist, maybe it's because he's a military man, but either way, Sam knows that there are just some things Steve needs time to process on his own. 

There are three other people living who understand that about Steve. One he is losing bit by bit, one he has already lost but is trying desperately to get back, and the other is on her way to California to meet up with some archers. 

So Steve cherishes the treatment as the gift that it is, and he says, "You know, I thought about it. I thought about putting the list on hold until Bucky and I could go through them together." 

"Exploring the 21st century as a team?" Sam suggests. 

"It seemed ... romantic." Steve glances over at Sam to judge his reaction. It isn't that Steve expects Sam to react badly to the tiny revelation. Except that while most everyone in the 21st century expects that being born in 1918 meant that Steve is homophobic, what it actually means is that Steve still automatically assumes that most people have homophobic baggage of their own. 

Even in the case of Sam, who has never once given Steve a reason to doubt or distrust him. 

Sam doesn't do so this time, either. He just shrugs and says "I've seen that list, man, and Star Trek is not romantic. Especially not when you get to _The Wrath of Khan_ , because you are going to hit that scene in engineering and want to punch whoever suggested it to you. Thai food, now, that can be romantic." 

"I'll keep that in mind," Steve promises. "Though I think Agent Simmons was one of the few S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who turned out _not_ to be part of Hydra, so holding her taste in movies against her might not be very grown up of me."

"And somebody has to keep Romanoff company in the grown up Avengers department, right?" Sam teases, and Steve allows himself a petty smile at that. Mostly, because it's true. "But you put romantic discoveries in the past tense of what you were planning, so what happened to change your mind?" 

They're about three blocks from Sam's place when Sam asks the question. Steve can see it clearly from his spot on the sidewalk. It's a place that had been a safe haven when Steve's world had completely turned upside down for the second time. It's also a place that Sam is planning to abandon entirely for the most important mission that Steve has ever had. 

Steve keeps his eyes on the roof of that building while he answers Sam. 

"When I first woke up in this century, every time I thought of the future, I thought of it in terms of what I'd lost. I measured days in time I wouldn't be allowed to spend with Peggy or Bucky. But lately ... lately when I think about the future, I measure my days in time that I get to spend with ... with someone else." The temptation to look at Sam then is strong, and maybe he should, but Steve's never really been very good at the romance angle. "Someone I want to discover the 21st century with. As much as the people in my past meant to me, that future is going to mean a lot to me, too. If I'm allowed to have it." 

The pause goes on long enough that Steve starts to worry. But then Sam says, "Never mind Thai food. _That_ was romantic." There's a firm hand on Steve's shoulder and Steve turns to look at a face that is full of the kind of relief that is sitting in the pit of Steve's stomach. "The nearest decent taco pizza is 200 miles from here. Guess we better get started packing for our trip if we're going to try it before nightfall." 

"Guess we better," Steve agrees. 

Taco pizza ends up being slightly better than cupcakes, Disneyland ends up being amazing, and Steve is happy to have Sam on his right when he scratches both off the list.


End file.
